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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25792486">come over here and overwhelm me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Richie Tozier, Cockwarming, Come Eating, Comeplay, Coming Untouched, Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fingering, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Married Sex, Morning Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Prostate Orgasm, Rimming, Sex Toys, but also emotional??, i was told i need to tag soft dom eddie, lots of emotions in the middle, nipple sucking, porn with a little plot, richie tozier: whiny bottom, richie tozier’s imposter syndrome, they're both switches!!, this is truly filthy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:15:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25792486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Love you,” Richie mumbles into Eddie's neck, deeply comforted just by his...Eddie-ness, by the way he feels and the way he holds Richie, like he’s something special. </p>
<p>“Love you too,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry today was shit for you.” He scratches up and down Richie’s back gently, presses a kiss into his hair, and says, “Let me take care of you, yeah?”</p>
<p>Richie shakes his head. “No, Eds, I— Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to be, like. Needy.”</p>
<p>Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Come on, Rich. You take care of me all the time. Right? You do such a good job. Let me have a turn.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>come over here and overwhelm me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>wrote this as an addition to the stupid deep universe using a bunch of prompts given to me, and then decided it didn't actually fit their dynamic in that series, so now you get it as this separate fic that bears an uncanny resemblance. if you see similarities between the aus, no you don't. THANK U SO MUCH ERIC FOR PROVIDING MANY THOUGHTS, HEAD FULL. ily.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Richie fucking hates awards season. </p>
<p>To be fair, he’s literally never thought about awards season before. They don’t generally give out trophies for being an obnoxious B-list comedian, even if you eventually get a Netflix deal. He hears about what movie won the Oscar for Best Film a day late on Twitter, he watches some of the Best Comedy noms, and that’s about it. But then Richie started working on writing material for TV, and then one of the shows he was working on started gaining some real traction, and in the midst of everyone expressing their shock once again that Richie Tozier could do more than just make your mom jokes, some fucking moron said something about the show getting nominated for an Emmy. </p>
<p>It’s so fucking stupid, because he never even really believed it. He never thought his writing deserved an Emmy, he never thought it was ever anything more than a fanciful dream, a few fans half-heartedly starting a hashtag on Twitter. If no one had mentioned it, Richie doesn’t think he ever would have even considered it. Richie’s friends win awards. Bev and Bill and Ben win awards. Richie doesn’t win awards. </p>
<p>So he doesn’t know why he’s so anxious, waking up at 6am, an hour and a half before Emmy noms are set to be announced. He doesn’t know why Eddie’s tiptoeing around as he gets ready for work, or texting his boss to let him know he’ll be late. He doesn’t know why his heart is beating in his throat and why he feels like he’s about to throw up, sitting in front of the livestream. It’s not like he thinks he’ll actually get one. </p>
<p>And he sure as <i>fuck</i> doesn’t know why he’s so fucking disappointed when he doesn’t. God. It’s so stupid. </p>
<p>“Rich—” Eddie says softly, as Richie shuts his laptop silently. </p>
<p>Richie shakes his head quickly, forces some bastardized version of a smile. “What? Come on, Eds, it’s not like I actually thought I <i>would—”</i> </p>
<p>“Richie,” Eddie says, arm around his waist. “I can take the day off work—”</p>
<p>Richie barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “No, dude, no way. Go to work. It’s so not a big deal.”</p>
<p>“You deserved one,” Eddie says, and Richie <i>hates,</i> he <i>hates</i> how hot his eyes get, the little sob that builds in his throat before he chokes it back down. </p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up, no I didn’t,” he says, and his voice only sounds a little strangled. “I’m serious, Eds, it’s no big deal. It’s just a regular day. One more day of many that I don’t get nominated for an Emmy, am I right?”</p>
<p>Eddie looks at him quietly, and Richie has the intense urge to punch himself in the fucking face. </p>
<p>“Just go,” Richie says, fighting to keep the smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’m fine. I mean it.”</p>
<p>Eddie looks at him for another second, and then he sighs and leans in to kiss Richie’s temple. “Love you,” he says, and gets up. “Let me know if you change your mind and want me to be righteously furious.”</p>
<p>Richie laughs, and it actually comes out pretty convincing. He grabs Eddie’s hand and kisses his wrist. “Thanks babe. Not necessary, but I appreciate your dedication to the cause.”</p>
<p>“Always,” Eddie says with a crooked smile. “I’ll incite a riot on Twitter for you if you like.”</p>
<p>“No thanks. I’d rather just forget about all of this.” Richie’s smile wobbles, and he looks away quickly. “I’ll see you after work, yeah? Don’t forget your lunch.”</p>
<p>“As if I’m the one who forgets my lunch.” Eddie moves to the mirror in the hall, straightens his tie. Richie gets up to get some water, or maybe dunk his head in the sink, and Eddie swings past him on his way to get his lunch from the fridge and kisses him again, short but firm and square on the mouth. “Love you. Talk to you later.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles a little. “Love you too.”</p>
<p>Eddie goes. Richie sits down at the table and considers getting breakfast, and then doesn’t. He just sits there in the kitchen in silence and tries not to think about anything, because the only thought lurking in the empty corners of his mind is <i>wow, Tozier. Guess you’re still a fucking loser.</i> </p>
<p>Which is just—it’s fucking dumb, because he’s always been a loser, and he’s embraced it, and. Not winning an award for one of the first TV projects he’s ever worked on doesn’t make him more of a loser than he was before. And none of this fucking matters and he never cared about winning awards before and he doesn’t even think he rightfully deserves one and it’s so <i>stupid.</i> It’s so fucking stupid. And he hates how stupid it is. </p>
<p>The day drags on, and Richie doesn’t do any work, because he doesn’t fucking feel like it, and he thinks he can take a day off when he feels this shitty. Nothing he writes is going to be funny right now anyway. So he sits around, and stews, and eventually he’s not even upset about the fucking award anymore. He was never going to win the award. </p>
<p>Instead, he just...he feels stupid. He feels like an idiot for hoping, and he feels like an idiot for getting upset about this. He feels stupid for making Eddie feel sorry for him, and he feels annoying, and tired of his own stupid fucking brain, and his big fucking emotions, and the way he’s always too much in all the wrong ways. He lies down on the couch for a few hours and feels lazy, and ugly, and pathetic. He just...spirals into a dark well of self-loathing, which isn’t unfamiliar to him, but it’s been a while.</p>
<p>Things have been good for a while. He has Eddie, and things are great between them. He’s been enjoying his work. He feels fulfilled, and happy, and he feels like he matters to people now, and he has people who matter to him. He’s married, something he never thought would happen to him, and he’s openly out, another thing he never saw in his future growing up. And his mental health has been good, for the most part. It’s been a while since he had a really bad day. </p>
<p>And today isn’t—it’s not a <i>really bad day.</i> He’s not having a panic attack, he doesn’t feel like he’s dying, he doesn’t even feel like he <i>wants</i> to die, really. He’s just. He’s had a couple months of good days. And that just makes this shitty day feel worse in comparison. </p>
<p>He knows he could, like...call someone. He could call Eddie, and Eddie would come home and make him feel better. He could call any of his friends, and they’d bend over backwards to help. But even just thinking about that makes him feel like shit, makes him feel needy and pathetic and like he’s a burden that all of his friends are better off without. And he knows, rationally, that that’s bullshit. That that’s just some shit his brain made up to make him miserable. But right now he feels like it’s true and letting people help would make him feel worse and he just. He doesn’t want to see anyone. He doesn’t want anyone to see <i>him,</i> like this, gross and sad and...stupid. He just feels so stupid. </p>
<p>He really hopes he’ll be able to get over himself by the time Eddie comes home from work, but of course he doesn’t. Which just makes him feel even more like a loser, as if he should have control over these things. Eddie comes in, and Richie drags himself off the couch to greet him, tries to make it seem like that wasn’t what he was doing for the past eight hours. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Eddie says, pressing up on his toes to kiss Richie’s huge forehead. “How was your day?”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Richie says quickly, hands on Eddie’s waist. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook us something.”</p>
<p>Eddie’s eyes rove over his face. Richie wishes they wouldn’t. “I’m fine with anything. We can order in if you want.”</p>
<p>“No, I want to cook,” Richie says, and he does, mostly just so that he can do something that gives him an excuse to not look at Eddie, to avoid his concerned eyes, to not feel so fucking useless. “Pasta? Do we have garlic bread? I’ll make pasta.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Eddie says, and Richie knows he’s still looking at him, but he’s already moving away, still feeling the ghost of Eddie’s lips against his skin, weirdly guilty about it, like he stole it from Eddie somehow. Like he tricked Eddie into thinking he deserved his affection. Maybe he did. </p>
<p>Richie cooks dinner quietly, tries to focus on what his hands are doing, chopping vegetables and boiling water and stirring sauce. It’s a simple meal, something he’s thrown together a thousand times, and Eddie watches him from the table after disappearing to change out of his work clothes. Usually watching him cook drives Eddie a little crazy, because Richie never measures anything and is always touching hot food with his bare hands and burning himself. But he doesn’t complain today, doesn’t try to convince Richie not to just eyeball how much salt he’s seasoning the sauce with or reprimand him for flipping the garlic bread with his fingers. He just watches, and Richie tries not to look at him, because he knows Eddie will know if he does, that Richie’s day was shit and he feels like shit and everything is shit, including him. </p>
<p>But he already knows. Of course he does. They eat dinner quietly—Eddie is talking about work things and Richie is listening and nodding and trying to make jokes and failing—and then they’re loading their dishes into the dishwasher and Eddie’s saying, “Rich, you don’t have to pretend nothing’s wrong.”</p>
<p>Richie sighs, leaning against the counter and closing his eyes. “Nothing <i>is</i> wrong, Eds. I’m just. My brain’s just being shit.”</p>
<p>“That counts as something being wrong,” Eddie says, sticking the detergent pod into the little compartment and then straightening and setting the wash cycle. “You don’t have to just, you know. Suffer quietly.”</p>
<p>Richie shrugs vaguely, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s already chewed it to shit today; it’s raw and sore. “There’s nothing to really say about it. I just—” He stops as his breath hitches unexpectedly, and he sniffs, hunches his shoulders. “I’ve just had a bad day, and. I feel dumb and annoying and I don’t want to annoy you with how dumb I’m being.”</p>
<p>Eddie washes his hands in the sink without looking away from Richie, and then he dries them on a dish towel and turns around and says, “C’mere.”</p>
<p>Richie scrubs his hands over his eyes. “Huh?”</p>
<p>“Come here.” Eddie doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the counter. </p>
<p>Richie huffs out a quiet breath, and then shuffles to stand in front of him, lets Eddie hold him by the waist and reel him in. He expects Eddie to kiss him, maybe, but all he does is pull Richie in, cradle the back of his head and tuck it into the crook of his neck, wrap his other arm around his waist. And then he just...lets Richie lean into him, pressing him into the edge of the counter, and combs his fingers gently through the matted hair at the back of Richie’s head from lying on the couch all day, and rubs his back with the other hand, and breathes gently in Richie’s ear. Richie sniffles against his neck. He lets the warmth of Eddie’s body seep into him, breathes in the familiar scent of him, the tension in his shoulders slowly unwinding. After a minute he pushes his hands against the counter, worried he’s crushing Eddie with his body weight, but Eddie makes a soft sound of discontent, elbows his arms until he gives up and goes back to pressing into him fully. </p>
<p>“Love you,” Richie mumbles into his neck, deeply comforted just by his...Eddie-ness, by the way he feels and the way he holds Richie, like he’s something special. </p>
<p>“Love you too,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry today was shit for you.” He scratches up and down Richie’s back gently, presses a kiss into his hair, and says, “Let me take care of you, yeah?”</p>
<p>Richie shakes his head. “No, Eds, I— Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to be, like. Needy.”</p>
<p>Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Come on, Rich. You take care of me all the time. Right? You do such a good job. Let me have a turn.”</p>
<p>“You take care of me plenty,” Richie mumbles. </p>
<p>“And I’m trying to do it right now. C’mon. Let’s go to our room, get comfy. I’ll rub your shoulders for you.”</p>
<p>Richie shrugs as best as he can, trying to take some of his weight off Eddie again. “You really don’t have to, babe.”</p>
<p>“I know I don’t, dumbass. I want to. Let me. Or...you tell me what you want, yeah? You can ask for anything.”</p>
<p>The thought of it makes Richie cringe, and he shakes his head. “I don’t want to. I don’t...feel good about asking for things. Today.”</p>
<p>Eddie turns his head, kisses his cheek, right where his beard fades into bare skin. “Okay. Then how about I do things I want to do and you tell me if you don’t like it or you don’t want it. Okay?”</p>
<p>Richie sniffs, and shrugs, and says, in a pathetically small voice, “Okay. But don’t just, like. Do things you don’t want to do because you feel sorry for me.” </p>
<p>“Never, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a soft laugh. “Come on.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Richie says, letting Eddie push him upright. “I love you.”</p>
<p>Eddie smiles up at him, sunny and affectionate, and Richie feels like the dumbest bitch on earth for tricking Eddie into thinking he deserves to be looked at like that. </p>
<p>Eddie tugs him into the bedroom a few seconds later, his hand in Richie’s, and he sits down at the head of the bed and coaxes Richie into sitting between his spread legs. When Eddie tugs at the hem of his shirt, Richie almost resists, hesitates just long enough for it to get a little weird. In the time they've been together, Eddie’s done a good job of convincing Richie that he likes how he looks, but Richie still has a hard time thinking it himself some days, and today hasn’t been kind to him. He’s not sure he feels like dealing with his body today, the soft convex shapes of it, the pudgy, hairy reality of how he looks. So incredibly different from Eddie, who essentially personifies attractiveness in Richie’s eyes. </p>
<p>But Eddie is gently persuasive, smoothing his hands up Richie’s back under his shirt, and Richie relents, letting Eddie pull his t-shirt up and off. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels Eddie fitting his thumbs into the spots where he knows he has dimples in his lower back, fingers curling around the soft rolls on either side of his hips. Richie hates them whenever he catches sight of them in the bathroom mirror after a shower, but Eddie never shies away from touching them, his fingers warm and firm. Richie exhales, and Eddie rubs his hands up his back, thumbs pressing into either side of his spine, up to his shoulders. They’re in a terrible position for an actual back massage, there’s no leverage, but that’s obviously not what Eddie is going for, barely using any strength as he runs his hands over Richie’s skin. </p>
<p>It’s just...it feels nice. It’s comforting and gentle and nothing at all like the somewhat punishing massages Eddie sometimes gives, hands strong and demanding. This is Eddie touching him like he just wants to feel him, like he just wants Richie to feel him. He traces his shoulderblades, runs his hands over his shoulders, down his arms. He leans forward and kisses the nape of Richie’s neck, then lower down on his spine. He scoots forward and wraps his arms around Richie from behind, mouthing along the crook of his neck, squeezing him around the middle, rocking them back and forth just a little. Richie’s breath comes out shaky. </p>
<p>“Love you so much,” Eddie murmurs into his skin. “I’m sorry you had such a shitty day. I used to have so many shitty days, before I met you again. You make all my days better, just by being there.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles a little, covers Eddie’s hands with his. He tries to find his voice and fails. </p>
<p>Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. “You make everyone’s day better, and that’s something I love about you. You’re always so bright and wonderful and you make everyone so happy, not just me. But you don’t always have to be like that, you know? You’re allowed to turn yourself down sometimes. And let me take care of you.”</p>
<p>Richie swallows thickly and nods. </p>
<p>“The best thing I ever did was meet you,” Eddie whispers against his shoulder. “And then meet you again, and fall in love with you, and marry you, so that I get to be with you every day, and take care of you when you need it.”</p>
<p>Richie makes a wet, breathy sound. “Does that include making me cry?”</p>
<p>Eddie hums a laugh into his skin. “Kiss me?”</p>
<p>Richie turns his head as far as it’ll go, and Eddie kisses him slow and soft, a little off-center, and it feels like an exhale at the end of a long day. Richie breathes into it, tries to follow Eddie’s soft, inviting mouth when he pulls away. Eddie smiles against his lips. “Turn around. You’ll break your neck.”</p>
<p>And really, there’s nothing for Richie to do but do what he says, so he lets Eddie turn him around, slides down the bed so that he’s on his stomach between Eddie’s legs, pressed into him, kissing him at the achingly slow pace that Eddie sets. He lets his eyes drift shut and pushes his hands up under Eddie’s shoulders, feels the shape of his body against Richie’s, falls into the steady rhythm of their mouths, the ebb and flow of their breaths. When Eddie pushes at his shoulders, he goes easily, turns onto his back and lets Eddie settle into the cradle of his hips, falls in love all over again with the way Eddie smiles against his mouth, like he just...loves kissing him. He falls in love with the rasp of his beard against Eddie’s 5-o’clock shadow, and the delicate way Eddie touches his waist and shoulders, like he’s something precious. He falls in love with the way Eddie thinks he’s someone worth touching like that. </p>
<p>It feels like coming up from a dream when Eddie pulls away from his mouth, bites gently at his lip and then slides down his body to kiss along his throat. Richie sighs from somewhere deep in his chest, tips back his head to give Eddie better access. He tugs vaguely at Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie laughs softly, struggles out of it a second later. Richie likes that better, the warm press of Eddie’s stomach against his, the intimate sensation of skin on skin. He’s so lost in it, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, that he’s a little shocked when he feels the warm, wet pressure of Eddie’s tongue just under his collarbone as he licks a line down the center of his chest. He makes an involuntary sound, and Eddie meets his gaze through his lashes, brown eyes shining. </p>
<p>“Okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to his solar plexus. </p>
<p>“Mhmm,” Richie says, and twitches up against him. </p>
<p>Eddie smiles, and follows the same line back up with the flat of his tongue, against the grain of the hair on his chest. Richie shivers a little, and he really didn’t expect to get aroused tonight, didn’t think he had it in him after the day he had, but it’s really working for him. Eddie is gentle and unaggressive, lightly teasing as he kisses along his collar, lips soft, tongue warm. There’s a slight pinch as he bites into the skin at the top of his pec, and then it’s soothed over, and he moves on to his shoulder, down to the delicate skin at the inside of his arm. Eddie used to pinch him there, as kids. Twist the skin quick and harsh to leave a dark purple bruise. Now he kisses him in the same place, sets his teeth against it but doesn’t bite down, even though Richie wouldn’t mind if he did. He wouldn’t mind. </p>
<p>“Rich?” Eddie murmurs, touching his lips to his chest again. </p>
<p>“Mmm,” Richie says, drowsy and warm. He realizes a moment too late that he’s got his fingers clenched tight in Eddie’s hair, gentles his grip. “Sorry. Feels nice.”</p>
<p>“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Eddie says, mouthing across his pec. </p>
<p>“I like it.” Richie strokes his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “I like you.”</p>
<p>Eddie smiles. “I like you too.” He fits his mouth around his nipple. </p>
<p>Richie arches into it with a whine. “Ah, Eddie…” </p>
<p>Eddie hums, sucks gently on him and then licks over his nipple with the tip of his tongue. Richie squirms into the feeling, foot twitching against Eddie’s calf. Eddie presses his nose into the hair on Richie’s chest, licks a ticklish circle around his nipple, then flat over it, sucks it into his mouth again. Richie moans softly, arching his back. His chest is soft enough that it gives Eddie a good mouthful, and Eddie’s always liked that, though Richie could never really see why. But he likes the way it feels, Eddie’s hot wet mouth on him, getting the hair on his chest slick with spit. Eddie lifts his hand to play with Richie’s other nipple, stroking over it with the flat of his thumb, and Richie makes vague, puppyish sounds. He can’t help it. </p>
<p>Eddie pulls away eventually, kisses across his chest to the opposite side, sucks on that nipple too, gives it the same loving treatment. Richie scratches the back of his skull compulsively, over and over, grips Eddie’s hip with his other hand. Richie’s not hard, not yet, but there’s a pleasant warmth gathering in his groin, the beginning of a want he doesn’t need to name yet. All he really cares about is the soft, wet feeling of Eddie’s mouth on him, sucking a gentle mark into his chest, and then another, high enough that it would show if he was wearing a v-neck. </p>
<p>From there he licks and kisses his way down Richie’s sternum, down to his stomach, which he frames with both hands as he scrapes his lower teeth across the soft rise of his belly just under his navel. Richie exhales softly, watches Eddie with lazy eyes as he sucks and kisses at his skin, whines high in his throat when he dips his tongue into his bellybutton. Eddie laughs quietly, does it again, teases a circle around it. He leaves another three marks on Richie’s stomach, blooming dark against the pale skin under the hair there, and Richie is awash with warm pleasure, sensation racing across his nerves. Eddie kisses one specific spot just on the edge of his stomach, close to his side, and it’s so sensitive that it makes Richie kick his leg a little, a knee-jerk reaction. </p>
<p>Eddie huffs a laugh, does it again and again, licking over his skin there, and somehow the sensation shoots straight through Richie’s leg, makes it bounce like he’s getting his knee tapped at the doctor’s office to check his reflexes. He can’t help it, and it makes him laugh, too. </p>
<p>“You’re like a dog,” Eddie hums, kissing him there. “Like a dog getting its belly scratched just right.”</p>
<p>“You can scratch my belly anytime,” Richie tells him. </p>
<p>Eddie grins, drags his fingertips over Richie’s stomach, over the places where he’s left bruises, and Richie sighs and squirms and kicks his leg again. It makes Eddie laugh, which makes Richie laugh, and Richie can feel Eddie’s tongue against his jumping stomach and he just, he fucking loves him so much. He loves Eddie for loving him, and for loving the body that he inhabits, for making Richie want to love it, too. And he loves Eddie for loving him even though he’s obnoxious and needy and moody and depressed and generally a piece of shit but at least he’s a piece of shit who is loved by Eddie Kaspbrak. And that’s all he ever really wanted to be. </p>
<p>It takes some time, but Eddie noses down his hip, leaving a trail of kisses above the waist of his sweatpants, and then tugs them down just enough to nuzzle into the crook of his thigh. Richie’s toes curl with pleasure, and arousal settles in his joints—at this age, Richie thinks he feels everything in his joints. Eddie licks along the crease between thigh and hip, and Richie is half-hard by now, but Eddie ignores his dick, sliding his pants down to suck a sharp kiss into the inside of his thigh. It makes Richie hiss, but it feels good, and he feels his cock twitch at the sight of the mark his mouth leaves there. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Eddie hums, right into the warm space where thigh meets groin. “Can I eat you out?”</p>
<p>Richie jolts a little. It’s not that Eddie’s never eaten him out before—he has, and it’s fucking incredible. But it’s something of a rare treat, something Eddie needs to really get in the mood for, usually when he’s already really worked up. He gets too in his head about it, and Richie needs to drive him a little wild first if he wants to even dream of it. His foot twitches at the idea. </p>
<p>He chews his lip. “You don’t have to do that, Eds.”</p>
<p>Eddie makes a soft noise, looks up at him with warm, bright eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to.”</p>
<p>Richie licks his lips. It’s true. He did say that. And Eddie wouldn’t lie about that. “Yeah, okay,” he says, already squirming at the thought of it. “If you want to.”</p>
<p>“I do,” Eddie says with a grin, and pats his hip. “Turn over. Take these off.”</p>
<p>It takes a minute to rearrange, pushing his sweats and boxers off and turning onto his stomach with Eddie’s help and his warm hands all over him. Richie pushes his arms under the pillow he’s pressing his face into, lets Eddie spread his legs. The windows are open, and it started raining sometime in the past hour, a steady drizzle that fills their room with the sharp scent of ozone and wet cement, and the air around them is damp and cool. It’s a stark contrast to Eddie laying down between Richie’s legs, warm and heavy, and Richie’s cock twitches against the sheets as Eddie spreads his ass gently, breathes against his rim. </p>
<p>“Good?” Eddie says. </p>
<p>“Mhmm.” Richie flexes his toes against the mattress, inhaling deeply. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie says. “You’re so good for me.”</p>
<p>Richie whines softly, and then Eddie is pressing his tongue against him, into him, and Richie is whining louder and higher. Richie had never been with anyone before Eddie who had been willing to eat him out, so this is a feeling he associates strongly with Eddie, this open vulnerability, this deep satisfaction. Eddie is indulgent and thorough, licking across his rim, rubbing the tip insistently over the edge before sliding it into him, just a little at first and then all the way, slick and hot. Richie groans, his entire body relaxing, melting into the sheets. </p>
<p>It feels so good, and Eddie doesn’t try to rush it at all, doesn’t try to get Richie off, just licks into him like he...like he loves it, like he loves doing this. And Richie can barely stand it, the way his tongue curls inside him, rubs warm and slippery along his walls, makes him flash hot and shivery. Richie moans and whines, squirming restlessly, as Eddie presses his tongue as deep into his hole as he can, his chin rubbing rough over his perineum, making him raw and sensitive. Richie eats Eddie out pretty often, loves eating him out and loves how wild he goes for it, but he sometimes forgets what the things he does translate to on the receiving end, the reality of the sensations they produce. </p>
<p>“God, feels so good,” he says clumsily, legs shifting on either side of Eddie, pushing back against his mouth. “Babe, fuck.”</p>
<p>Eddie hums into him, his breath warm and damp, his tongue driving Richie to madness. And he licks into him so lazily, so unhurriedly, like he’d gladly eat Richie out all night. He makes lewd, wet sounds against Richie, sucking at his rim, getting him wet with saliva, and Richie feels like he needs to get up and pace, he’s so overwhelmed with it. But it’s still so slow, so comfortingly deliberate. It makes him want to pass out. His cock throbs against the sheets. </p>
<p>It feels like it goes on forever, though it probably only lasts five, maybe ten minutes. But time is molasses-slow, warm and dripping through Richie’s head, like the blood pumping thick in his veins. All of his nerves are alight as Eddie licks and hums into his ass, and he feels a special kind of alive, maybe not enough to come, but enough that he feels like he’s right on the edge of it, just grinding his cock into the mattress as Eddie presses his tongue into his hole. His brain turns to soup and leaks out his ears. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” he whines, and Eddie makes an inquiring <i>hmm</i> sound right into him that makes him want to cry. Richie makes a <i>nghhhk</i> noise in response, and then says, helplessly, “I don’t know, I love you, I love your tongue in me, it feels so good and I love you and I think I’m going to die.”</p>
<p>Eddie laughs somewhere in his chest, spreads Richie’s ass wide and licks into him slow and deep and devastating, and then pulls out and says, “You want me to finger you?”</p>
<p>Richie wipes his weirdly damp eyes on his pillowcase and says, pathetically, “Mhmm.”</p>
<p>Eddie’s hands and warm breath disappears, and Richie shivers, saliva cooling on his rim in the damp air. He feels devastatingly empty and exposed, and he has to press his face into his pillow just to keep himself from reaching back, filling that space however he can. </p>
<p>Eddie is back in a second anyway, this time with a bottle that clicks open and closed. One hand spreads him open again, and Eddie kisses his rim, the edge of one cheek, and then there’s a finger sliding into him, slick with lube. Richie hisses, but mostly just at the sudden breach—it doesn’t hurt, and Eddie obviously warmed the lube between his fingers first. Something about that makes Richie want to cry, but he doesn’t, just moans softly as Eddie thrusts one finger in and out of him a few times, then adds a second, loose as he is from Eddie’s tongue.</p>
<p>“God, there you go,” Eddie says quietly, curling his fingers, finding his prostate like he was born to do it. Richie whines, arches, presses back into it. “You’re so good for me, Rich, you take it so well. Does that feel good, baby?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Richie gasps, muffling moans into his pillow. “Yeah, god, so good.”</p>
<p>“Good, that’s good, I love making you feel good.” Eddie rubs over his prostate relentlessly, the pressure firm but not overwhelming, just a steady building of pleasure.  </p>
<p>Richie grinds his hips down into the mattress, back against Eddie’s hand. “Want you to feel good too.”</p>
<p>“Feels good just to look at you,” Eddie says, and he sounds like he means it. “You know I love to look at you.”</p>
<p>Richie nods, eyes watering against his pillow, whimpering as Eddie pushes a third finger into him. “I know.”</p>
<p>“So hot,” Eddie breathes. “You look so good, and you take my fingers so well, you’re perfect for me.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles pathetically, feeling like he doesn’t deserve this praise but knowing Eddie means it, knowing Eddie really believes it, wondering what Richie did to make Eddie believe it. He would ask, so that he could either feel guilty or keep doing it, but he can’t form words right now because Eddie is fingerfucking him so well, three fingers pushing in and out of him, spreading him open, rubbing inside him. He’s setting an easy pace, a relaxing-on-the-beach kind of pace, if Eddie would ever finger him on the beach. Just enough to get him shivery and hot but not so much that Richie feels like he’s going to come apart, or even that he feels like that’s the end goal. His limbs are warm and heavy, and Eddie’s licking at the crease where his ass meets his thigh, biting at his hip. And all Richie can do is moan, and whine, and lie there and take it. </p>
<p>God, and he just takes and takes and <i>takes it.</i> Richie doesn’t know how long it goes on for, but it feels like hours. Eddie fingers him slow and thorough, massaging his prostate until his legs are shaking and his knees ache with pleasure, and then he speeds up so gradually that it makes Richie cry a little, his pillowcase damp against his face. He makes Richie desperate for it, stretched out across the bed like this, toes curling against the mattress, breaths coming fast. He sucks kisses along his back and says <i>let go, baby, just let go, let me feel you, I want you to feel so good.</i> </p>
<p>The pleasure reaches a peak, and Richie shakes through the first waves of a prostate orgasm, moaning softly as it pulses through his body, cock dribbling a little fluid into the sheets. It feels almost painfully good, and Eddie slows down his movements so that it lasts, so that he doesn’t come, milks it softly. More tears squeeze out from between Richie’s eyelids, and his head buzzes with pleasure, and he’s gasping, keening. “Eddie,” he sobs, “Eddie Eddie Eddie.”</p>
<p>“There you go,” Eddie murmurs, rubbing his free hand up and down his side, kissing the small of his back. “You did so good for me.” He stops stroking inside him, slides his fingers out, rubs gently at his rim. “Richie? You good?”</p>
<p>Richie shivers into the light touch, still shaking with pleasure but wanting more, wanting Eddie to do it more. But he can’t ask, not when Eddie’s already given him so much. “Yeah,” he whimpers. </p>
<p>“Good boy,” Eddie says, and strokes his warm, slick fingers up and down his perineum. “How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>“Amazing,” Richie says, licking his lips as he spreads his legs a little wider, loving how Eddie’s fingertips feel on him. They’re licking a burning path along his skin, lighting him up, but he won’t ask for anything. He knows Eddie said he could, but he can’t, he can’t ask for more. </p>
<p>He figures the session is finished. Eddie kissed him, and touched him, and ate him out, and fingered him. Richie had an incredible prostate orgasm. He figures that’s it for today, and he’s happy, he feels so good, his body is tingling all over and if Eddie goes to shower maybe Richie can reach down and give himself another. </p>
<p>But Eddie isn’t pulling away, he’s still touching Richie between his cheeks, pushing up against the soft part of his taint, massaging his prostate from there. And he’s circling his thumb around Richie’s rim, where it’s loose and slick. And it’s not enough stimulation to really get Richie off, but it’s just enough to make him feel hungry for it, to get him panting and desperate for him. Richie squirms against the sheets, mouth open against his pillow, feeling like another orgasm is just out of his reach. He wants it so bad, he wants it so so bad that he almost reaches back to push his own fingers into himself, or to push Eddie’s into him. He’s so achingly empty and he wants something inside him, wants something to fill him up, wants—</p>
<p>“Richie,” Eddie says, voice low, holding him open and kissing his tailbone. “Do you want my cock?”</p>
<p>“Oh, god,” Richie moans, pressing back against his hand. “Please, Eddie, please.”</p>
<p>“Shhh,” Eddie hushes against his hip. “You don’t have to say please. I’ll give you anything you like.”</p>
<p>“I want it,” Richie practically sobs. “Eddie, please.”</p>
<p>“I’ll give it to you,” Eddie promises. “C’mere.”</p>
<p>Richie doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to move, but he’s incredibly dick-motivated right now, and with a bit of effort he pushes up onto his shaky knees and lets Eddie move him to the edge of the bed, face down, ass up. Eddie stands behind him, rubs both palms over him, up his sides and down his back, over his hips, down his thighs. </p>
<p>“Gorgeous,” he says. “Ready?”</p>
<p>“Mhmm,” Richie says, cock bobbing between his legs, hard and heavy. </p>
<p>“Good boy. Maybe don’t touch yourself for now, okay? Be good for me.”</p>
<p>Richie nods, panting softly, and wonders how long it’ll take for his knees to give out. </p>
<p>He forgets all about that when he feels the head of Eddie’s cock press up against his rim, feels the way he spreads around it, sucks Eddie in. He hasn’t bottomed in a while, but it feels so good every time, a completely different pleasure to fucking someone. It’s raw and vulnerable and deeply satisfying, the pressure of Eddie’s cock sinking into him, slow but unyielding. And Richie feels himself open up around him, eager to please as always, eager for Eddie to fill him in a way nothing else does. </p>
<p>God, Richie loves this, the feeling of Eddie sliding into him, opening him up. It’s intense, almost gutting, but it’s also so comforting, knowing there’s nothing he needs to do, knowing this is just something he needs to take and take, and it makes Eddie feel good, and it makes Richie feel <i>amazing.</i> He loves just letting his body go limp and letting Eddie take whatever he needs from him, give whatever he wants. Richie loves to top most of the time, loves being active in the creation of pleasure, loves making Eddie lose his mind with it, but he loves this, too. Just burying his face in his arms and letting go. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Richie,” Eddie groans, bottoming out, filling him completely. “That’s perfect.”</p>
<p>Richie makes a sound like a mewl, shifting his legs farther apart, clenching around him. </p>
<p>“Mmmm. Talk to me, Rich. You feel good?”</p>
<p>Richie doesn’t understand how Eddie can expect him to talk when he’s being fucked <i>so</i> good. But he’s asking, so he tries. “Yeah. God. Amazing. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Eddie huffs out a laugh, rubs a hand up his side. “You don’t have to thank me, Richie.”</p>
<p>“I feel like I should.” Richie squirms, feels Eddie’s cock shift inside him. “You feel so good. I love your dick.”</p>
<p>“God, I love how dick-stupid you get,” Eddie says fondly. “You’re cute when you’re getting fucked.”</p>
<p>Richie smiles into his arms. “You can, <i>ah,</i> fuck me whenever you like, babe.”</p>
<p>“I already do, sweetheart.” </p>
<p>And then he’s sliding back out, so far that Richie feels his rim spread around the crown of his cock, and pushes in again at the same pace, steady and relentless, so deep it makes Richie shaky. And he keeps fucking Richie like that, strong and steady, pulling all the way out and pressing all the way in, not fast enough to even be considered thrusting. It makes Richie crazy, makes his mind white out. He loves feeling every inch of Eddie like this, feeling the shape and heat of his cock, and something about being fucked like this makes his skin tingle with sensitivity, makes every touch to his hips and back and thighs feel like fire. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” he sobs. “God, fuck, I want it so bad.”</p>
<p>Eddie shushes him gently. “What do you want?” He gives one small thrust, and it makes Richie whine. </p>
<p>“I don’t know, fuck, I just, I want your cock.”</p>
<p>“You’ve got it.” He pushes deep into Richie again, grinds against his ass as if to prove it. </p>
<p>“I know.” Richie sniffs. “I love it, I want more of it.”</p>
<p>Eddie hums, and finally picks up his pace a little, sacrificing the long, deep slide from before for a shorter, faster thrust. Richie moans in relief, not because it feels better but because it’s less intense. He arches his back and pants out harsh breaths in time to Eddie’s hips hitting his ass, whines as warmth starts to spread through his veins. Eddie holds onto his waist with one hand and spreads his ass with the other, presses into him as deep as he can, and then says, “Move however it feels good, Rich.”</p>
<p>“It feels so good,” Richie gasps, but shifts and arches until Eddie’s rocking into him at the perfect angle, rubbing over his prostate just right. He’s still sensitive from before, and Eddie feels so good inside him, lighting him up. Richie doesn’t know if he even says anything, but Eddie speeds up at his urging, switching to short, fast motions. It doesn’t take long for Eddie to fuck him hard enough and fast enough that Richie’s hitting those same highs again, strong and persistent. He can barely breathe through it, wave after wave of pleasure, but still not quite cresting as Eddie slows down every time he thinks he might come. </p>
<p>Richie sobs brokenly, and Eddie smooths over his back and says, “Shh, that’s good, you’re so good, doing so good for me. Love you so much, you’re so sweet.”</p>
<p>Richie curls his hands in his hair and nods, cock leaking heavily onto the sheets. He feels Eddie rubbing around his rim where his cock is still sliding in and out of him, and he pushes back into the feeling, heaving huge, hiccupping breaths. </p>
<p>“You want more? Richie?” </p>
<p>“Yes,” Richie gasps, feeling how he thinks Eddie must always be feeling, like he’s a slut for it, like he’d do anything for it. </p>
<p>“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Eddie says, and then he’s—he’s sliding his thumb, slick with lube, into Richie, next to his cock. Richie almost cries out from the stretch, not because it’s painful but because it’s so <i>much.</i> He knows Eddie loves how big he is but Richie’s never taken anything bigger than Eddie. And just his thumb isn’t that much but it makes Richie feel like he’s going crazy, the fullness of it inside him, the way it stretches him wide. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” he sobs, because he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this, so good and so open and raw. He feels like Eddie is taking him apart, and Richie is happy to let him, to be spread thin and used up. He’s on fire and instead of wanting to be put out he wants to burn brighter and hotter. He wants and he wants and—</p>
<p>“Richie,” Eddie says, voice tight and strained. “Do you want my come?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Richie whines, face wet with tears. “Please please please.”</p>
<p>“God, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie says, and he finally sounds like he’s losing his composure, and Richie loves that, wants him to feel as wildly good as Richie does, wants him to <i>come.</i> </p>
<p>“Love you,” he says clumsily, like his tongue is too big for his mouth. “Love you so much, Eddie, ah, ah, please, I want you to come in me.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie says, curling his thumb deep inside him, tugging just a little, stretching him even wider. His thrusts go fast and sloppy, and Richie goes lax, just takes it, just wants to take whatever Eddie gives him so that he can feel good. “Richie, fuck, you’re so fucking. Big and good and hot and. God, you’re gonna make me come, I’m gonna—”</p>
<p>The sensation of Eddie coming inside him is almost enough to send Richie over the edge himself, hot and wet and satisfying. Richie moans as Eddie fucks him through it, clenches around Eddie pulsing inside him, and he flashes hot as Eddie pulls out and some of his come drips down his taint. Eddie slides his thumb out of him and uses it to swipe the come back up and push it back into him, and Richie keens high in his throat just at the feeling of it, at the <i>thought</i> of what he’s doing. </p>
<p>“God,” Eddie says, breathing hard, holding his thumb there, keeping his come inside Richie. “Turn over, baby, lay back against the pillows.”</p>
<p>Richie wants to say something in reply, but he’s absolutely fucking speechless at this point. He moves as quickly as he can without dislodging Eddie’s hand, and whines when Eddie eventually pulls it away once he’s situated so that he can reach for his bedside drawer. Richie rubs an arm over his eyes, sniffles, and then reaches for his glasses so that he can actually see Eddie coming back up with one of his dildos. And Eddie himself looks...looks gorgeous, looks absolutely wrecked, his hair everywhere and his face pink and damp with sweat and his eyes bright. He bites his lip as he grins at Richie, cocks his head to the side in coy inquiry, still panting from his own orgasm, and Richie loves him so powerfully that he feels lightheaded. </p>
<p>“Richie?” Eddie asks breathlessly, and Richie swallows hard and holds out his arms as he spreads his legs. </p>
<p>The dildo feels incredible pushing into him, doubly so because Eddie is curled over Richie’s side and kissing him through it, one hand in his hair as he bites at his lip and the other presses the toy in as far as it’ll go. It’s just about the same size as Eddie’s cock, maybe a little wider at the base, and Richie loves how it feels sliding through Eddie’s come inside him, slick and hot. He shifts restlessly, wanting to feel it, wanting to feel how Eddie’s come moves around inside him, and Eddie fucks him with quick, strong pumps of his wrist. </p>
<p>“Good?” Eddie breathes against his mouth, grinding the toy into him. “Does that feel good, Rich?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Richie pants, knees trembling. “So good, I don’t know how much more I can—”</p>
<p>“Just hold on a little bit more,” Eddie says. “You love it, don’t you. You love how it feels with my come in you.”</p>
<p>Richie keens and nods, prying his eyes open to watch, to see the way the toy disappears into him, come and lube leaking out around it. </p>
<p>“You did so good for me today, you took it all so well,” Eddie says. “And you look so good, I can’t get enough of you. Look at your cock, just dripping.”</p>
<p>Richie looks—neither of them have touched his cock this entire time, apart from rutting against the mattress. He’s so hard, the tip drooling precome onto his stomach, and he aches to touch it, but Eddie asked him not to, and Richie can be good, he can be so good. </p>
<p>Eddie leans in and kisses him again, wrist pumping. “Love making you feel so good, Rich, you deserve it, you deserve every good thing.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles and nods, reaching for him, petting over his arms and shoulders feverishly. </p>
<p>Eddie fucks the toy into him hard and fast, and the sounds of it are so wet and lewd, and it feels incredible, overwhelming, Richie doesn’t think he can stand it anymore. “You do,” Eddie says, “you deserve to feel so good, and you deserve to <i>come.</i> Come on, Richie, you can do it, come for me.”</p>
<p>Richie comes so hard, so incredibly fast and intense, that he doesn’t even realize that this is his first time ever coming completely untouched. His ears pop, and his vision goes white, and he moans so loudly he thinks their neighbours can probably hear him. It rocks through his entire body, lances through his joints, just absolutely...wallops him over the head. He can barely catch his breath. </p>
<p>When he finally comes down from it, Eddie is chuckling softly, kissing along his hairline, keeping the dildo inside him with one hand while the other strokes through his hair. “Wow,” he says. “How was <i>that?”</i> </p>
<p>“Unghhhhhhh,” Richie says feelingly. He feels like melted taffy. </p>
<p>“Mhmm. Felt good?”</p>
<p>“I think I pulled something,” Richie says, and his voice is hoarse, completely ruined. “I don’t think the human body was made to come like that.”</p>
<p>“Well it clearly was,” Eddie says with a grin, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It was pretty hot just to watch you, honestly. Seemed intense.”</p>
<p>“You could say that. Holy <i>shit.”</i> </p>
<p>Eddie hums, and Richie hisses as the dildo is finally slid out of him. It leaves him feeling bereft and empty, but before he can think to complain about it, Eddie’s sitting up to look at the toy in his hand, giving it a considering look, glancing up at Richie. Richie stares back, and then drops his gaze down to his stomach as Eddie drags the shiny tip of the dildo through the splatter of come there. His neck heats up, and he bites his lip, watching Eddie rub the toy, already slick with lube and his own come, through the mess Richie made. Richie is completely wiped, but the sight still makes his breathing stutter a little, and he can’t help but stick out his tongue in response. </p>
<p>“Gross,” Eddie says, but he’s already lifting it to Richie’s mouth, letting him lick at the pearly white fluid dripping down the shaft. </p>
<p>Richie moans softly, opens his mouth wider, lets Eddie push the whole head of the toy into it. The taste isn’t great, but it makes Richie hot all over, knowing it’s his and Eddie’s come.</p>
<p>“Here,” Eddie says, eyes blazing now as he slips the toy back out of his mouth. “You just can’t get enough, huh?”</p>
<p>“Mmmm,” Richie says, but somehow when Eddie picks up more of his come with the slippery head of the toy, he doesn’t expect him to reach between Richie’s legs and push it back into him. “Oh, <i>fuck.”</i> </p>
<p>“Good?” Eddie says. “You want just a little more?”</p>
<p>Richie whines, bites his lip, and nods.</p>
<p>The overstimulation is exquisite, and Richie is sobbing from it within seconds, the way Eddie is fucking him where he’s already so loose and sloppy and raw. There’s no way he can get hard again, especially not after everything they did tonight, he doesn’t even want to. But he also doesn’t want Eddie to stop, not yet, not when he’s watching Richie like he feels like he’s the one winning here. Richie squirms and cries a little and tries not to wail, and Eddie fucks him through both of their come, and Richie’s going to die, he’s going to die from Eddie fucking him. </p>
<p>And then Eddie stops, and slips the toy out of him, and smiles as he climbs on top of Richie and covers him with his whole body and just. Lies on him, kissing his cheek over his beard and murmuring, “Okay, all done, you did so good, you were perfect.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles pathetically and holds him, feeling completely and utterly wrung out, destroyed. His entire body is still vibrating. He thinks his knees might be shaky for the next twenty-four hours. He holds onto Eddie, comforted by his weight and warmth, and says, “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome. I love you.”</p>
<p>Richie buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder to cover up that he’s still crying a little. “Love you too.”</p>
<p>Eddie hums and rubs a thumb under his eyes. Richie thinks it might be the same thumb he used to hold his ass open for his cock. “Come on,” Eddie says. “Let’s go take a nice warm shower. I’ll get it hot for you.”</p>
<p>He pulls away a second later, and Richie halfheartedly kicks their disgusting sheets to the floor, using the corner to wipe up the drying come still on his stomach and sticking to his thighs. The movement stretches his ass and thighs, and Richie is distinctly aware of some of the finer aches in his body. He thinks, again, about Eddie’s thumb inside him, the stretch of his rim around him. He squirms just thinking about it, how good it felt, how intensely full. He licks his lips and feels horribly empty, now, without him. </p>
<p>“Richie?” Eddie calls from the bathroom. “C’mon.”</p>
<p>Moving from the bedroom to the bathroom is an unpleasant affair, as Richie stretches some sore muscles and come and lube slide down his perineum, and at one point he genuinely doubts his legs are going to support his weight all the way there. But he makes it, and Eddie holds his hands as he steps into the shower, pulls him under the hot spray. And that feels amazing, warm water sluicing across his skin, and Eddie’s hands on his hips, his warm, wet mouth against Richie’s. Richie sighs into it, relaxes against the tile wall, hums as Eddie lathers up his skin with body wash. He wants to help, wants to wash Eddie’s body for him, but he’s so tired and weak and fucked out. </p>
<p>Eddie doesn’t seem to mind anyway, trailing his washcloth up and down Richie’s back far beyond what he needs to get him clean, kissing his throat and shoulders and chest, straddling his shaky thigh. Richie touches him as much as he can, cups his ass and strokes his sides, but his eyes keep sliding shut, his voice keeps dying in his throat. Eddie hums softly, runs his fingers through Richie’s wet hair, slides his fingers down to his ass to clean the come out of him. </p>
<p>Richie whines at the touch, squirming. Eddie probably thinks it’s because he’s raw and oversensitive, but it’s more because of the way Richie still feels so achingly open there, like he’s missing something. And Richie can’t stop thinking about how it felt to have Eddie inside him, how good and right. And he <i>is</i> so sensitive still, but it feels good when Eddie pushes his fingers into him briefly, it feels so good and Richie hates when he pulls them back out. </p>
<p>“You okay?” Eddie asks, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing him into the wall like he thinks Richie might fall over. </p>
<p>“Mhmm,” Richie says, but it’s a struggle not to reach down and fill the space Eddie’s fingers left with his own. </p>
<p>“Ready to get out?” </p>
<p>Richie nods, and Eddie turns off the water, helps him out, wraps him up in a huge towel. Eddie dries himself off quickly, tucks his damp towel around Richie’s hips, and then hands him his toothbrush while he goes to put fresh sheets on the bed. Richie’s so dozy at this point that by the time Eddie’s come back, he’s barely put toothpaste on it and gotten it into his mouth. Eddie laughs quietly, loops an arm around his waist as he presses in next to him and brushes his own teeth, his chin hooked over Richie’s shoulder in the mirror. It’s silent for a minute as Richie clumsily brushes his teeth and watches Eddie’s face in their reflection, watches Eddie watch him. He smiles, and it fucks up his brushing, but it feels nice. </p>
<p>A few minutes later they’re back in bed, and the clean sheets feels amazing against Richie’s bare skin, soft and lovely. Eddie settles in behind him, wearing a t-shirt and boxer briefs, and Richie wishes he was naked, too, but not enough to complain. He spoons Richie from behind, an arm around his middle and his nose pressing into the nape of Richie’s neck, and Richie hums and leans back into him, body going lax. </p>
<p>“Feel better?” Eddie says softly. </p>
<p>Richie makes a vague noise, nodding. “You’ve never met a man so well-fucked.”</p>
<p>Eddie huffs a laugh into his neck. “Oh yeah?”</p>
<p>“Mhmm.” Richie licks his lips, thinks about Eddie’s cock inside him, about his hips pressed against Richie’s ass right now, right up against his loose hole. </p>
<p>“Hmm. Then why do you keep wiggling your hips like you’re thinking about going again?”</p>
<p>Richie flushes hot and shakes his head. “No way, dude, I think I’d die if I tried to get hard again tonight.”</p>
<p>“If you say so,” Eddie says, and strokes his stomach through the hair above his navel. </p>
<p>They’re both quiet for a second, and Richie tries to ignore the heat between his legs, the press of Eddie’s clothed cock against him. He’s <i>not</i> interested in another round. He really isn’t looking to get fucked again, his dick is very obviously done for the day. He just. He’s feeling the lingering ache of Eddie inside him. He’s missing that fullness, is all. He’s not interested in stimulation, he’s just. His mind is caught on the way Eddie held him open, earlier. His rim is still clenching fruitlessly around nothing. Eddie stretched him too well. Left him gaping. </p>
<p>Eddie talks about this sometimes. Feeling empty afterwards. Not wanting Richie to pull out. Richie hasn’t really experienced it himself so far, not like this. Not this deep want for something inside him just for the sake of...of having something to fill that space. He’s been plugged before a few times, but only as a means to an end. Never just for the feeling of it in and of itself. </p>
<p>Usually, when Eddie gets like that, he’ll ask for Richie’s fingers, or a plug. But sometimes—just on special occasions—Eddie will ask for Richie’s cock, will ask if he can slide back inside him, keep it in him. Richie’s never thought of doing it the other way around. It’s never come up. </p>
<p>He licks his lips. Eddie doesn’t ask for it often, but when he does, god, he loves it. Just loves having Richie inside him, even soft. They did it for the first time like that, in bed, on their wedding night, and it always reminds Richie of that. That feeling of bliss, of safety, of unconditional love and affection. He flexes his toes. His ass clenches again. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” he says softly, and then regrets it. He shouldn’t be asking for things. He shouldn’t be— He’s already gotten so much from Eddie tonight. And if Eddie isn’t suggesting it, has <i>never</i> suggested it, maybe he just. Isn’t interested, wouldn’t like it. Richie won’t ask. It’s not like he’s done anything to deserve something so—</p>
<p>“Hm?” Eddie says, nosing at the drying hair at his nape. “What’s up.”</p>
<p>Richie shakes his head. “Never mind. Dumb idea.” </p>
<p>“I like dumb ideas,” Eddie says with a yawn. “You want something?”</p>
<p>“No,” Richie says quickly. </p>
<p>Eddie pinches the chub of Richie’s stomach gently. “Don’t lie to me, you’re terrible at it.”</p>
<p>“I lied about being straight for forty years,” Richie says. </p>
<p>“Yeah, and then you saw me again and came out like two weeks later,” Eddie says. “So you see, I’ll figure out what it is eventually.”</p>
<p>Richie snorts out a soft laugh. “Okay, true.”</p>
<p>Eddie pets his stomach again. “Tell me what it is.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s okay,” Richie says. “We can just sleep.”</p>
<p>“Richie,” Eddie says warningly, and pokes a finger into his bellybutton. </p>
<p>Richie sighs and gives in, face warm, toes curling. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to. Like. Put your dick in me.”</p>
<p>There’s a moment of silence, and Richie feels guttingly horrible, like he’s somehow pressured Eddie into loving him all along or something. And then Eddie strokes over his sternum and says, “Babe, I love you so much, but I’m not even close to getting it back up again right now.”</p>
<p>Richie laughs a little, breathy and uncomfortable. “No, I know. Just, I was thinking like— Never mind. It was just a thought, you totally don’t have to.”</p>
<p>“No, what were you thinking like?” Eddie says. “If I can do it I’ll do it.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to,” Richie insists. “If you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“Well, I can’t decide if I want to until you tell me what it is.”</p>
<p>Richie swallows thickly. “I just thought it might feel nice. If you put your dick in me. And like. Stayed there.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Eddie says. “Really?”</p>
<p>Richie turns his face into his pillow and shrugs. </p>
<p>Eddie scratches his stomach gently. “I didn’t think you were interested in, like. Cockwarming. You’ve never asked before.”</p>
<p>Richie shrugs again. “I never thought about it before.”</p>
<p>Eddie hums. “Why were you being so cagey about it, though? It’s not like it’s something we’ve never done before, even if it wasn’t this way. I was starting to think you were going to get into some really freaky shit. Not that you shouldn’t ask for those things if you want, too.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffs, laughs. “I don’t know. I’m just. Greedy.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” Eddie says. “If this is you being greedy then I’m a straight-up bitch.”</p>
<p>Richie laughs again, louder this time. “No, you’re not. You’re just—”</p>
<p>“What, more deserving than you?” When Richie doesn’t respond, Eddie groans and says, “Oh, Richie. Of course that’s what this is about.”</p>
<p>Richie’s eyes go hot. “Let’s not get into it.”</p>
<p>Eddie sighs, kisses his shoulder. “You’re so dumb. I love you. You still want my dick in you?”</p>
<p>Richie shrugs, nods. Wipes his eyes against his pillowcase. </p>
<p>“You self-sacrificial dumbass. Come here, I need to get you all lubey.” Richie can hear him rummaging for the lube bottle. </p>
<p>“You don’t need to,” Richie says compulsively. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I know that. I just happen to like both fucking my husband <i>and</i> doing things that make him feel good.”</p>
<p>Richie tells himself very firmly that he is not going to cry about this. </p>
<p>He mostly succeeds, too, subsequently distracted by the feeling of Eddie pushing lube into his loose hole, and then the novel sensation of him feeding his soft cock into him, both of them on their sides, Eddie fingers pressing the crown of his cock past his rim. Richie’s done this a few times, so he reaches back and helps out, knows a little better how to do it. Eddie moans softly, and it makes Richie go hot, knowing that Eddie likes how it feels, too. He tries to relax, helps Eddie push it in as far as he can. </p>
<p>And then they’re just lying there, panting softly, and Eddie is...Eddie is inside him. And it feels <i>good.</i> It’s not stimulating, not really, but it just feels. Warm and comforting and satisfying, exactly what Richie wanted, what he <i>needed.</i> He sighs, clenches a little just to feel him. </p>
<p>“Is that good, Rich?” Eddie asks, rubbing gently at one nipple. “Do you like it?”</p>
<p>“God, yeah,” Richie breathes, eyes closed. “I knew how much you loved it but. Fuck. I can’t believe I never thought about trying it.”</p>
<p>“Feels good, right? Imagine how it is with <i>your</i> fucking huge dick.”</p>
<p>Richie laughs, and it turns into another moan. “I like yours. It’s perfect.”</p>
<p>Eddie hums, reaches down to cup Richie’s soft cock gently. “You’re just saying that because you don’t know better.”</p>
<p>Richie doesn’t have the energy to argue, so he just makes a vague noise, flexes his ass rhythmically to feel the shape of Eddie’s cock. </p>
<p>Eddie breathes a pleased noise against his shoulder. “You think maybe you never thought about trying it like this because you have a complex about wanting things for yourself?”</p>
<p>Richie whines. “Eddieeee. Don’t trap me in deep conversations when I’m stuck on your dick.”</p>
<p>“You’re not stuck, you could pull off if you wanted.”</p>
<p>“But you know I won’t,” Richie grumbles, pulling Eddie’s hand up from his cock to kiss his fingertips. </p>
<p>“Hmm. So?”</p>
<p>“What.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you haven’t asked for this before?”</p>
<p>Richie sighs, and Eddie strokes over his beard softly. “I don’t know. I really never thought about it. I don’t like— I mean, I like doing things for you. And making you feel good. And like...doing things that feel good for you.”</p>
<p>“And you think I don’t like doing those things, too?”</p>
<p>Richie shrugs. “Most days I know you like it.”</p>
<p>“Mmm. But today was a bad day.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Richie sighs, links their fingers together. “I don’t know. My brain’s being shit today.”</p>
<p>“Days when your brain is being shit are days when I am <i>especially</i> interested in doing things that feel good for you,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. </p>
<p>“Yeah. I know. I love you.”</p>
<p>Eddie laughs softly against his skin. “Making you happy makes me happy. You know?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Richie says, voice small. “It’s the same for me.”</p>
<p>“I know it is, you overly-generous, selfless, dumbass service top of a man. That’s what makes you so fucking good. But you give and you give and you give and you only take when you think I’m getting something out of it, too.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffles. “I want you to feel good.”</p>
<p>“I <i>do,</i> Richie, I like taking care of you. Obviously sex should be good for both of us and it’s great when we both feel good but I wish you would be a little bit selfish sometimes.”</p>
<p>Richie makes a soft noise and moves their joined hands across his stomach, the rhythmic pressure soothing. “I don’t think selfishness is like. A good trait to have.”</p>
<p>“I mean, not in excess, but.” Eddie sighs. “I want you to do things for yourself sometimes. Ask for things. Let yourself <i>want</i> things. Take things when they’re offered.” He rubs his thumb across Richie’s lower belly. “You deserve to be selfish sometimes.”</p>
<p>There’s that fucking word again. Richie chews on his lip. “What makes me deserve it?”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding? Rich, imagine if you just. Gave someone a gift every day for years and years, and when they try to give you a gift back, you ask why. That’s what’s happening right now. The gift isn’t, you know, it’s not to make the giver feel good. It’s for you.”</p>
<p>Richie sniffs, plays with Eddie’s fingers. </p>
<p>“You give in so many areas, Rich, and it’s something I love about you. That you’re...so fucking selfless, and loving, and patient, and kind. You make people laugh for a living, just because you love it. But you’re also honest, and talented, and you...make people feel good, in so many ways.” Eddie holds him tight around his waist. “You never want to let people make you feel good in return. But you deserve it more than anyone else I know. You’ve never been greedy in your <i>life.”</i> </p>
<p>“I feel greedy,” Richie whispers.</p>
<p>“For what?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Having you...feels like as much as I deserve. And the others, too. Having money. And a career that I like. That’s all too much already.”</p>
<p>“But you give back in all of those areas,” Eddie insists. “You love me so much, you make me so happy. And you love our friends, and you work hard for the money you make, a large portion of which you <i>donate,</i> and you produce incredible things for your job. You make things that make people happy. You make things that make people feel understood, and...and seen. And maybe you won’t be recognized for that on some bullshit awards show. But thousands of people feel it. I feel it.”</p>
<p>Richie’s eyes leak hot tears onto his pillow. He lifts Eddie’s hand to his mouth, presses a kiss into his palm. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn't know what he <i>could</i> say. </p>
<p>“I love you <i>so. Much,”</i> Eddie says, his voice a little fierce. “For a million reasons. And I want to make that clear to you every day in a thousand different ways. And you’ll deserve every single one. But maybe, just. Try to be a little selfish, sometimes. I want you to.”</p>
<p>Richie nods. He doesn’t think there’s much else he can do. </p>
<p>“Good,” Eddie says. “I’m gonna pass out in a couple minutes now. I love you.”</p>
<p>“Love you too,” Richie whispers hoarsely. </p>
<p>Eddie hugs him tight, and it pushes his cock a little deeper into Richie, and it makes him want to laugh a little hysterically, that that’s still happening. But he doesn’t, because it feels good, feels comforting and warm. It feels a little bit selfish. He closes his eyes.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>The moment Richie is awake, he’s aware of Eddie’s cock inside him. There’s no moment of confusion or processing. He surfaces to consciousness, and he’s aware of it, thick and hard inside him. Eddie’s hips are twitching a little, not enough that he thinks Eddie’s awake, just small, unconscious thrusts into him. Richie licks his lips, squeezing around him just a little, just to feel him. He feels so fucking loose and relaxed, still raw but incredibly sensitive, and it feels so good. Richie doesn’t think he’s ever slept all night with a plug in him before, though he’s done it for Eddie dozens of times, and he always loves how Eddie feels in the morning, warm and lax. It’s bizarre being on the other end, but good—Richie feels like he can’t quite clench around him, he’s that loose. It makes him hungry.<p>And it doesn’t help that Eddie’s still rocking into him, sleepy and uncontrolled. Richie has had blanket permission to touch Eddie while he’s asleep for years, has been allowed to jerk or finger him awake, but they’ve never discussed <i>Eddie</i> doing the fucking while unconscious, so he reaches back clumsily, grips Eddie’s hip to still him. He picks up Eddie’s hand where it’s draped over his waist, squeezes it gently, rubs his thumb into his palm. Eddie snuffles quietly behind him, and his hips twitch again. Richie pinches each of his fingertips gently, lifts his hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the center and then bite his thumb. </p>
<p>Eddie makes a soft noise, inhales deeply. “Uh?” he says, like Richie asked him a question. </p>
<p>Richie smiles, kisses his palm again. “Morning, sunshine.”</p>
<p>Eddie makes a sound between a hum and a groan. “F’course you’re awake...no matter how well I fuck you, you’re always awake at fucking...dawn.” He yawns hugely. </p>
<p>Richie laughs. “I can’t help it. I’m motivated.” He pauses, shifts back against him. “There’s a dick in my ass.”</p>
<p>“Mmmm.” Eddie’s hips rock gently, like he’s just now realizing it himself. “Yeah. How’s it feel?”</p>
<p>“Good.” Richie licks his lips, squeezes around him again. Shifts his hips like he just wants to feel him, like he’s curious about the sensations. “Really good.”</p>
<p>“Mhmm.” Eddie noses against the nape of his neck and clenches his hand around Richie’s, but doesn’t move. “Think you’ll wanna, ah, do it again sometime?”</p>
<p>Richie grins, knowing Eddie’s holding himself back, trying to just let Richie adjust, or whatever he thinks he needs to do. He keeps moving, teasingly slow and minute. “Probably. Not, like, every night. But it feels nice.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. He swears under his breath as Richie pushes back onto his cock a bit. “God, babe, you’re just. <i>So</i> fucking loose, shit. Is this what I feel like after you’ve fucked me with your huge cock?”</p>
<p>Richie flushes hot all over, his own cock half-hard and twitching with interest. “Yeah,  fuck. When I finger you after. So fucking sexy.”</p>
<p>Eddie groans like Richie’s killing him. “I <i>know,</i> god. You absolutely wreck me.”</p>
<p>Richie bites back a whine, flexing his hole around him. “S’about time you got your turn, huh?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie hums. “Fuck. The way you feel right now.”</p>
<p>Richie nods, but Eddie’s still not moving, still not taking this chance to fuck into Richie’s loose, desperate hole, and he’s not asking if Richie wants it, but he <i>does,</i> god, he wants to be fucked so bad. And he doesn’t know if maybe Eddie’s not interested or maybe he’s not awake enough yet but Richie wants it with a hunger that’s becoming all-consuming, a heat that’s spreading through his gut and making his cock throb to life, and Richie has never been so desperate while he already has a cock inside him. He bites his tongue, and closes his eyes, and says, “Eddie.”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>Richie exhales shakily. “Please fuck me?”</p>
<p>“Shit,” Eddie says, making a sudden, aborted thrust. It punches a breath out of Richie, and they both moan. “Yeah, fuck, yes, okay. Hold on.”</p>
<p>He slides out of Richie, and it pulls a pathetic <i>nooo</i> out of him before he can stop himself. Eddie laughs softly, kisses his shoulder, and then rolls clumsily off the bed. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” Richie whines, turning onto his back to look at him. “That’s the opposite of you fucking me.”</p>
<p>“Just a second,” Eddie laughs, stumbling to their dresser, yanking open the bottom drawer with his foot. He pulls out a heap of red fabric victoriously, and Richie presses his face into his pillow and grins. </p>
<p>“It’s a sex blanket kind of morning,” he says. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to ruin another set of sheets,” Eddie says. “And you’re gonna be leaking fucking everywhere.”</p>
<p>“Fuck yeah I am,” Richie says, going hot at the knowledge. </p>
<p>It takes a bit of shuffling to get the blanket spread out on the mattress and Richie on top of it, but they manage, and he lays back against their pillows, spreads his legs wide, knees bent. He finds his glasses and puts them on, peers at Eddie through them a little shyly. </p>
<p>Eddie grins, situating himself between his knees with the lube bottle in his hand. He's lost his boxers, but still has his shirt on. “You wanna see me, sweetheart?”</p>
<p>Richie licks his lips and nods. Almost everything they did last night had him on his stomach, face pressed into the mattress. And it was incredible, obviously, and he loved it. But he misses seeing Eddie, sometimes. He wants to watch everything as it happens. </p>
<p>“You know I can’t get enough of this handsome face,” Eddie says, and leans forward over him to kiss him once, firm and intent. Richie hums into it, pleased, and then Eddie is pulling away, pushing his knees up, flicking the lube bottle open. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” Richie says, without even knowing why. </p>
<p>Eddie pauses, looks away from his exposed hole to his face. “Hm?”</p>
<p>Richie blinks, looks at him. It’s seven in the morning, about three hours before Eddie usually gets up on the weekend. And here he is, between Richie’s knees, eager and ready to fuck him, hands warm on his skin, and he’s so gorgeous, and so good to Richie, and Richie just. “I love you,” he says. </p>
<p>A smile spreads across Eddie’s face, beautiful and warm. “Love you too, hot stuff,” he says, and for some reason it makes Richie feel like crying. </p>
<p>Before he can do that, though, Eddie’s dropping his hand holding the bottle of lube to his ass, and he’s fucking...squeezing it directly into him, Richie’s hole is <i>that</i> open, and it’s shockingly cold but it’s so fucking hot somehow, and Richie moans like Eddie’s fucking him. Eddie hums, and grins, and he’s using way more lube than he needs to but Eddie’s always been a slut for wet, messy sex, and it honestly tracks that he’d be into it even when he’s topping. Richie gasps and tries to relax, shivering as he feels the lube dripping inside of him, soaking him. </p>
<p>“Good,” Eddie says softly, putting the bottle down at last. He slides his palm up and down Richie’s thigh, and then presses three fingers into him, pushing the lube deeper into his hole. “You’re doing so good already, god, you’re so fucking sloppy with it.”</p>
<p>Richie breathes out a whiny breath and arches his back, clenching unconsciously around his fingers. </p>
<p>“I know, I know,” Eddie murmurs. “Alright, babe, eyes open.”</p>
<p>Richie hadn’t even realized they were closed. He wrenches them open again, watches as Eddie shuffles into position, sliding his fingers out of Richie and spreading the residual lube on his fingers over his cock. He meets Richie’s gaze, licks his lips. “Watch,” he says, and then starts pushing in. </p>
<p>Richie moans helplessly, eyes glued to the place where he can see Eddie’s cock pressing into him. The view’s not great, he can’t actually see the point where it meets his rim, but it’s incredibly erotic all the same, watching it disappear into him inch by inch, feeling it slide through all the lube inside him as it fills him. And it goes in so fucking easy, it makes Richie want to burn up. </p>
<p>“Shit,” Eddie breathes, bottoming out against him, hips flush against Richie’s ass. “God, you feel so good.”</p>
<p>Richie breathes shakily, rubbing his fingertips over the velvety fabric of the blanket under him, trying to just. Feel it all. Eddie’s gripping his thighs tightly, still watching the spot where he’s deep inside him, and Richie loves it, loves him, loves how he feels right now. </p>
<p>“Rich?” Eddie says, voice a little ragged. “You good?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Richie says, head swimming. “Yeah, I’m amazing. You feel so good in me.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Eddie says, moving his hips rhythmically, little more than a deep grind. “God, look at your cock, you’re so fucking hard.”</p>
<p>Richie makes a vague noise, looking at it for the first time as something other than a barrier to his view of Eddie inside him. He <i>is</i> rock hard, and dripping precome onto his stomach already. He tucks his hands under his hips to curb the sudden, intense urge to touch himself. </p>
<p>But Eddie makes a contradictory noise, thrusting into Richie slowly now as he says, “You can touch, babe, you can— Just don’t come yet, okay?”</p>
<p>Richie nods, immediately sliding one hand across his stomach to pick up the precome gathering there, slicking it up his hot, hard cock. He squeezes himself a little roughly, whines as it forces another dribble of precome from the slit. He gathers it on his fingers, gets them messy with it, and his jaw aches with the urge to taste it but even more than that he wants— He looks up at Eddie, watches Eddie watching him. His hips slap against Richie’s thighs, and his cock is fucking through all that lube inside him, and the sounds of it are disgusting, wet and noisy and. Richie gathers more precome on his fingertips, and holds them up, and says, “Ah, fuck. Eddie?”</p>
<p>Eddie’s eyes flash. He leans forwards a little, and parts his lips. </p>
<p>Richie doesn’t think twice, pushing his wet fingers into his mouth for Eddie to suck them clean. And he’s looking at Richie through it all, unblinkingly, grinding his cock into him, and it’s so <i>fucking</i> hot that Richie thinks he might come, he really thinks he might. </p>
<p>But Eddie slows down just in time, stops fucking him for a second long enough that the urge passes, and then starts again slowly, building up speed again until their room is a mess of wet, filthy noises and their harsh breathing and Richie’s helpless moans. </p>
<p>“You feel so good,” Eddie says, voice wrecked. “Look at you, taking my cock so well for the second time in under twelve hours, just gagging for it. You look so good with a cock inside you, and your, ah, your huge fucking cock so hard between your legs. God, and the way you sound, fuck, you could be in porn.”</p>
<p>It makes Richie laugh for some reason, even though he’s said it to Eddie a hundred times. “Me?” he blusters, voice breaking at the end and turning into a high keen. “Oh, fuck, Eddie, there. God. In <i>porn?”</i> </p>
<p>“You’ve got the dick for it,” Eddie says, grinning a little wildly. </p>
<p>“I don’t think I have a porn body,” Richie says, shuddering through a sudden shock of pleasure as Eddie shifts angles. </p>
<p>“God, yes you do, people would go wild for it. Huge dick, strong arms, fucking. Hairy all over. Shoulders. <i>Shit.</i> Repressed men everywhere would be getting off to it.”</p>
<p>Richie whines, arches his back. “Is that the, oh fuck, the ideal these days?”</p>
<p>“It <i>should be,”</i> Eddie says fiercely. “God, Richie, tell me what you need.”</p>
<p>Richie’s eyelids flutter, and he watches Eddie fucking into him again, tries desperately to squeeze around him. It feels so good, so fucking good, but it also feels like...like not enough. He’s still so loose and Eddie’s fucking him so deep but there’s still that feeling of just. Wanting more, wanting… He wants to be stuffed <i>full.</i> Eddie always goes so wild for it, wants to be absolutely bursting with cock, and suddenly that’s all Richie can think about, wanting that too. And if he just lets Eddie keep going he’s going to make Richie come which is <i>good,</i> it’s always so good, but god he wants more. He wants more so bad and. Right now Richie is desperate enough to think about the fact that Eddie said he can ask for things. That Eddie said he wants him to. And he’s asking right now, he’s asking what Richie wants, and Richie thinks he can tell him. </p>
<p>And usually Richie doesn’t ask for things that don’t benefit Eddie, that don’t make it better for him, but Eddie told him he could be greedy. And Richie <i>is.</i> Right now, he’s so greedy. And he feels wild with it, wild with the thoughts swirling around his head. He gasps, and moans, and listens to the slick sounds of Eddie fucking his hole. And he doesn’t let himself think about it. He just opens his mouth and says, “Eddie. Please. More.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie says, picking up his pace, sweat beading along his hairline. “More of what?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Richie says, shaking a little. “I don’t know, I’m. I’m going crazy thinking about, ah, your thumb in me. Yesterday. I want more.”</p>
<p>And Richie can <i>feel</i> the way Eddie shivers, the way he falters on his next thrust. “Fuck. Yeah. Yes. You wanna be stuffed up with cock?”</p>
<p>Richie closes his eyes, face hot, and nods. </p>
<p>“Good,” Eddie gasps. “Good boy. You ask for what you need.”</p>
<p>Richie licks his lips, and moans, and forces his eyes open so that he can look at Eddie. “I want to be stuffed up,” he says thickly. “With cock.”</p>
<p>Eddie’s grin spreads across his face, feral and happy and proud, and Richie wants to cry a little bit all over again. </p>
<p>He wants to cry even more, in a different way, when Eddie pulls out halfway to lean over and pick up the same dildo he used last night to drive Richie absolutely wild from the bedside table, freshly washed and set out to air dry. He looks back at Richie, bites his lip, and raises his eyebrows inquiringly as he presses the head of it right up against Richie’s rim, next to where his cock is still deep inside him. “Like this?” Eddie says. </p>
<p>“Holy shit,” Richie breathes, feeling like he’s going to black out just thinking about it. </p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>Richie swallows thickly, and tries to spread his legs wider. God, his thighs are going to be fucking sore for <i>days.</i> And so is his ass, after this. He licks his lips. “Yes.”</p>
<p>Eddie doesn’t push it in right away, of course. He finds the lube again, gets the toy absolutely dripping with it. He sets it down on the bedside table again and pushes his thumb into Richie again first, makes sure he’s nice and stretched out. Richie is panting out short, desperate breaths just at that, at Eddie holding him open. He murmurs soothing words to Richie that Richie barely hears, an endless litany of <i>you can do it, you just need to relax, I know you can take it, you’re doing so good.</i> </p>
<p>And then the toy is there, Richie can feel it against his rim again, and Eddie is stroking his cock slowly with his other hand, petting his stomach, and then pressing in, just the tiniest bit. </p>
<p>Richie whines high in his throat, body going tight and hot. “Oh, <i>fuck, Eddie.”</i> </p>
<p>“Easy,” Eddie says, sweat shiny at his temples, in his hair, dripping into the neckline of his shirt. “Come on, baby. Nice and slow.”</p>
<p>“Fuck fuck fuck.” Richie tries desperately to go lax, breathes deep. On his exhale, Eddie presses in again, and he feels the head of the toy breach him incredibly slowly, stretching him farther than he’s ever been before. He makes a strangled, shattered sound, but Eddie keeps going, easing the toy into him, and Richie feels like he’s going to lose his fucking mind. “Wait,” he whimpers, “wait, wait.”</p>
<p>Eddie pauses just as the crown of the toy slides past his rim. Richie moans brokenly, mouth hanging open. Eddie touches his cheek gently, and Richie’s eyes flutter open, meet his gaze. Eddie’s looking at him steadily, eyes dark and intense, forehead wrinkled in concern. It goes through Richie like lightning. </p>
<p>“Too much?” Eddie asks. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Richie says. “But I like it.”</p>
<p>Eddie grins a little. “I know the feeling.”</p>
<p>Richie huffs a choked, overwhelmed breath. “Yeah you do you, <i>ah fuck,</i> you fucking size queen.”</p>
<p>Eddie smiles, and shrugs, and says, “Remember the first time you put your dick in me?”</p>
<p>Richie nods, whines. “I had to go so slow.”</p>
<p>“I loved it,” Eddie says. “You want more?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Richie breathes, and he doesn’t look away from Eddie’s eyes as he pushes the toy into him farther, opening him up with it, so wide Richie feels like he’s coming apart at the seams. </p>
<p>Everything goes hazy for a few minutes, so much pressure and pleasure and overwhelming sensation that Richie’s brain goes partially offline just to cope. Eddie keeps pressing the toy into him, inch by inch, checking in with Richie constantly, petting his flank and his stomach and stroking his cock. And then, miraculously, it’s all the way it—Eddie and the dildo are both completely inside him. </p>
<p>“Fuck,” Richie moans, lights dancing in his vision. </p>
<p>“Yeah? How’s that feel?”</p>
<p>Richie tears his eyes away from Eddie’s to look down, to look at where Eddie’s holding the toy inside him next to his cock. “Incredible,” he says. “God, Eddie, it’s amazing. I feel like I’m going to explode. I can’t believe I took it all.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Rich, you did amazing, you feel so good. You like being so full?”</p>
<p>Richie nods minutely, eyes back on Eddie’s. “Yeah, I like it.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Eddie wipes at his forehead, breathing hard. “You want me to move?”</p>
<p>Richie takes a deep breath, thighs quivering, heat flooding his senses. “Yeah. Slowly.”</p>
<p>Eddie moving inside him alongside the dildo feels even better than the toy pushing into him. Richie has no idea how it feels for him, but for Richie it’s wildly erotic, and so intense that tears keep leaking from his eyes unchecked. He feels completely wrecked, so full that he feels like he can feel it in his stomach, in his <i>chest.</i> Richie’s heard about rearranging organs but it really <i>feels like that,</i> like his body is doing impossible things just to fit two dicks inside him. <i>God.</i> </p>
<p>And Eddie’s still looking straight at him, never looking away as he fucks Richie with his cock and with the toy, pushing into him alternatingly, this incredible dual sensation that’s only heightened by the way Eddie’s looking at him like he’s a miracle. Richie is beyond words, moaning so loud he’s sure they’ll get an angry letter from someone, maybe from God. He can’t help it. </p>
<p>“What do you need?” Eddie asks, panting hard, brows pinching. “Tell me what you need.”</p>
<p>Richie tries to catch his breath, wanting to just drop into this sea of intense feeling, to close his eyes and let it consume him, but unwilling to miss even a moment of it. “Eddie,” he manages, voice small. “God, Eddie, Eddie.”</p>
<p>“Come on, Richie. Do you want to come?”</p>
<p>Richie swallows, shakes his head. Tries to speak past his dry throat. “You.”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“God, fuck, you. Eddie. Come in me.”</p>
<p>Eddie makes a small, shocked noise, like he hadn’t even thought about that, and fucks into Richie suddenly, quick but not hard. Still, it lights him up, and Richie moans as he meets Eddie’s wild gazy steadily, and then all at once Eddie’s coming. Richie can feel the way his cock is throbbing inside him, filling him up with come alongside the toy, and he’s shuddering through his orgasm weakly. And Richie loves that, loves that it caught him off guard, that he liked this enough that he came unexpectedly. And it feels so <i>good,</i> Eddie coming inside him, warm and wet and delicious, and Richie moans too, feels the come and lube leaking out of him and feels crazy from it. </p>
<p>“Holy shit,” Eddie says, looking absolutely shattered, hair falling over his eyes. </p>
<p>Richie laughs a little hysterically, bucking his hips desperately, and says, <i>“Eddie,</i> holy fuck.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, god,” Eddie says, touching Richie’s hot, stretched rim, catching some of the come leaking out there. </p>
<p>“Eddie,” Richie says urgently. “Touch me, fuck me, I want to come on your cock.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie says, and immediately starts fucking the dildo into him alongside his softening cock, reaches out to wrap his other hand around Richie’s, spreading come and lube along it as he jacks him off steadily. </p>
<p>It’s a lot of sensation all at once, and Richie arches his spine, cries out softly. </p>
<p>“That’s it,” Eddie says, breathing hard. “Come on Rich, come on, you can come on my cock, you took it so well and I want you to come so bad, you’re amazing, you’re so perfect, come for me.”</p>
<p>“Please,” Richie sobs, “please please please.”</p>
<p>“You did so well, taking two cocks, you were so greedy and I love it so much, so fucking hot, I want you to feel so good, can you be good and come for me now?”</p>
<p>And in the end Richie thinks it’s that that tips him over the edge, Eddie wanting him to, Eddie asking it of him. Eddie jacks him off quick and hard with his come-smeared fist, and pushes the dildo deep inside him, and Richie comes so hard his ears ring, come splattering across his stomach. He chokes out a sob and bucks his hips, and Eddie fucks him through it, come and lube sliding around inside him as the dildo fucks through it. </p>
<p>Richie finally settles with a huge, heaving breath, and Eddie sighs in relief and slides the dildo out of him, and then his soft cock. Richie feels fluid dripping out of his hole, but it’s hard to focus on that when Eddie is looking at him like he’s been totally poleaxed. </p>
<p>Richie breathes hard, probably with the exact same expression on his face, and then says, “Holy shit, Eds.”</p>
<p>Eddie laughs. He just...cracks up, dropping to both hands on either side of Richie’s stomach, shoulders shaking. And Richie starts laughing too, helplessly, flooded with endorphins and buzzing hard. “Holy shit,” he says again, and shakes with laughter.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Eddie says, laughing so hard tears are dripping onto Richie’s filthy stomach. “Wow. Okay, okay, I’m okay.”</p>
<p>“Nothing’s even funny,” Richie says, grinning and exhausted. </p>
<p>“I know, I’m not. I just feel good.” Eddie giggles a little, and Richie wants to kiss him so bad. </p>
<p>He reaches up. “Kiss me?”</p>
<p>Eddie looks at him, and his eyes are shining, and he’s biting his lip to muffle his snickers. “I’m so gross. <i>You’re</i> so gross.”</p>
<p>“I know. I got really, really fucked. Kiss me though?”</p>
<p>Eddie hums, and lies down on top of him, come sliding between their stomachs. He kisses Richie slow and sloppy, his mouth clumsy, and it’s perfect. It’s so perfect. </p>
<p>“I got so fucked,” Richie laughs against his mouth, hands clutching at his back. “I’ll never be this fucked again.”</p>
<p>“It actually kind of hurt,” Eddie giggles into another kiss. “With the dildo. I’d do it again, though.”</p>
<p>“I love you,” Richie says. “I love you I love you I love you.”</p>
<p>“I love you too,” Eddie says, and he’s still laughing, and it’s so stupid, and so good. “And you did so good. Asking for things.”</p>
<p>Richie’s body goes warm with pleasure and pride. “Thanks, Spaghetti Man.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Eddie guffaws. “Don’t call me that right after I gave you the fucking of your life.”</p>
<p>Richie grins, beatific. “Just try and fucking stop me. I’m in the business of being selfish now.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. God, yeah, and you do it well.”</p>
<p>Richie laughs. “Fuck yeah I do.”</p>
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